


In Another Life

by Lamshire, Seruna



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Apologies for Chapter 6 and beyond, Collaboration, Guild Wars 2: Heart of Thorns, Guild Wars 2: Path of Fire, Living World, M/M, Personal story, Plot Spoilers, Roleplaying Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-06-27 11:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15684300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamshire/pseuds/Lamshire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seruna/pseuds/Seruna
Summary: Two sylvari awaken side by side, meant to take and walk the stride; a Dream to share, a dragon to fell, but in light, darkness lingers just as well.A collaborative role-playing project going through Personal Story all the way to present day Living World Story.





	1. Following the Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Perryn was created/is played by Lamshire, and Jairas was created/is played by Seruna, respectively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome everyone! 
> 
> This started out as a small thing we did for fun while running around in-game with our new characters but it spiralled out of control and we thought "You know what? Let's post it!" so here we are. The chapters will be separated into story instances so this is us going through level 10 plot :3
> 
> We hope you enjoy our descent into madness as we play through all the story the game has to offer.  
> Have fun! <3
> 
> EDIT : We have finished our edits on this particular work and taken the feedback into consideration that you have left for us. (Thank you, we appreciate it! <3) Please note that we will not be changing the RP itself, so we have changed and specified the descriptions to hopefully create a better flow, transition and less confusion.  
> Let us know what you think, all criticism is welcome! Never fear, we don't bite <3.  
> Much love

**1325 AE, Caledon Forest**

**Perryn emerges from the pristine waters of Ventry Bay, staring at the shore impatiently as Jairas follows suit.**  
Jairas stumbles from the waters and squeezes the water from his leathers. "Water," He grumbles. "Water everywhere."

"We're here now," Perryn rolls his eyes at the soaked man, "enough of your grouching."

Jairas casts Perryn a glance and then turns away, muttering something underneath his breath that sounds alot like, "Someone's in a bad mood."

A churning rumbles from Perryn's belly and he looks aside sheepishly. "What's a guy to do to get some decent food around here?"

"Hungry hm?", Jairas glances over Perryn's form. "I hear Hermit Crab tastes a lot like chicken."

"Haha. Very funny." Perryn responds sarcastically, looking a little more than tempted by the shelled critter, "Let's hurry to the market before I actually dive in for it."

Jairas doesn't object this time. Instead he chuckles and gestures for Perryn to take the lead.

Perryn sniffs the food wafting in the air and salivates, turning to Jairas quickly before running off, "I'll go grab some meat. You scout ahead."

"Ah." is all Jairas manages to make as he watches Perryn skitter off. 

 

 **Jairas walks on ahead, scouting out possible routes to take and stands by the edges of Mabon Market waiting for Perryn to return with his snack.**  
Jairas watches Perryn approach and tilts his head. "There is the road leading north and the beaches along the bay. I assume the road would be safer to travel."

Perryn slurps the remainder of his food with a satisfied burp, "The road it is then."

"Manners." Jairas murmurs. 

 

 **Walking through the Ruins of the Unseen, they spot Apprentice Vee frantically pleading for assistance with his Data crystals.**  
"Asura are quite demanding." Jairas notices. "You give them a hand and they take your whole arm."

"You'd think for ones so small they’d learn a little gratitude."

"Let's fix this mess and then get out of here. The humming of those crystals is making me...nervous."

After the umpteenth skritt he's slapped, Perryn grows bored. "Alright," he sheaths his sword, "let's get out of here."

"Right behind you."

“The road splits from here, do we go to Brisban Wildlands or Kessex hills?”

"Why am I to make the choice?" Jairas sighs. "Fine. Kessex."

"A little input never hurt anybody." Perryn smirks.

 

 **Reaching the crossroad at Lionguard Waystation, they veer left into Wychmire Swamp and get ambushed by jungle wurms.)**  
"Swamp." Jairas notices and glances around. "It seems...haunted."

"Something's got the wurms spooked alright." Perryn agrees. “Let’s stick to the path.”  
"Agreed." Jairas mutters. 

 

 **Continuing on, they are besieged by trolls but quickly deal with them.**  
"Well." Jairas dusts off his shoulder. "That warning came too late."

“And now trolls.” Perryn grimaces, stomping on the body, “Just perfect.”

"And," Jairas adds with a glance toward the path ahead, "The 'path' is no so much a road as it is a curling construction site."

"Now that you mention it... I don't recall the path to Kessex being this run down." Perryn observes the barely constructed road, "We must've taken a wrong turn."

"Just typical." Jairas grins. "With your sense of direction I am surprised we get anywhere."

"I-" Perryn turns away in a huff, "Well Brisban is good enough, plenty of thugs to push around."

"Just be careful." Jairas lets his eyes linger on the tips of Perryn's hair. "You are going to attract...stuff. With all that..." He pauses. "...glowing."

"Heh, is that concern I hear?" He yells back, sprinting towards Wychmire.

Jairas just rolls his eyes.

 

 **Disrupting their playful banter is a flutter in the air that turns out to be a pigeon carrier with a small note attached to a satchel on its leg.**  
Jairas gingerly picks the message from the bird’s foot and let's it fly as he unfolds the message.

“What’s it say?”

"It's the firstborn Caithe." Jairas notices. "She asks us to return to the Grove to tell us about the White Stag."

"The one from our dream?" Perryn raises his brows.

Jairas gives him a pointed stare. "Do you think there are that many other White Stags out there?"

Perryn scours at Jairas' remark. "Alright, wise guy. Let's go see what the firstborn wants."

 

 **They return to their awe-inspiring home, the Grove, soothed under the boughs of the Pale Tree right at its centre.**  
Jairas comes to a very abrupt halt and simply stares at the large tree painted against the horizon. "Home." He mouths dazed.

"It hasn't been that long, mama's boy." Perryn jabs Jairas with his elbow, then looks up to the Pale Tree fondly, "But it is nice to be back." 

Jairas rubs his flank. "Yeah."

 

 **Called to Dreamer's Terrace, Perryn and Jairas meet with Caithe and Aife to discuss sightings of the White Stag.**  
"Well you heard them." Perryn straightens up, determination sparkling in his eyes, "We've got a stag to track."

"Yes, but," Jairas hesitates and waits until they are out of earshot. "Why do you think Caithe immerses herself in the matters of our Dream?"

"She's a firstborn," Perryn whispers back, "don't they meddle with everything?"

"They certainly seem to try." Jairas murmurs. "Let's go find our Stag."

"Doesn't matter." Perryn pats Jai's shoulder assuringly, "It's our dream, no one else's."

Jairas smiles at that fondly, inclining his head to hide it beneath his hood. "Yeah."

 

 **Jairas and Perryn track the White Stag successfully through Caledon Forest, hot on its tail.**  
"It must be close."

"Thank the Pale Mother we learned how to track in the Dream."

"I think we've got it now!"

Jairas chuckles at Perryn's enthusiasm.

"Do you hear that?" Perryn's ears twitch sporadically, "Someone's calling for help in there."

Jairas notices too and nods.

 

 **Fighting through a cave of undead, they come to the aid of a lone Sylvari named Gavin who turns out to be on the very same hunt.**  
"Well three pairs of eyes are better than two." Perryn nods, "Let's go find that stag."

Upon Gavin's departure, Jairas frowns at Perryn. "I thought this was our hunt."

"Oh don't be that way." Perryn waves him off, "He saw it in his dream too, that has to mean something. We should help each other."

"Accommodating, as always." Jairas sighs.

"Look," Perryn glowers, "if he's deadweight, we'll leave him. Happy?"

"That's-" Jairas flinches at Perryn's glower. "That's not what I meant."

"Come, Gavin's waiting for us."

 

 **Gavin joins them in their search for the White Stag at Caer Verdant.**  
"See? He's not so bad." Perryn insists, "We'll get that Stag in no time."

 

 **When they have the White Stag cornered, Gavin reveals himself as Nightmare Court and intends to use the Stag as a weapon against the Dream. After Nightmare Hounds ambush and distract the two Valiants, Gavin steals the stag and makes his escape.**  
"Perry!", Jairas exclaimes. "Are you alright?"

"Thorns!" Perryn punches the ground in frustration, "We should have left him to rot in that damned cave!"

"We can track him." Jairas assures him. "Maybe Caithe knows what to do and where to find him."

"If he's done anything to the White Stag..." He clenches his scrapped fist, "I'll end him."

"We will." Jairas corrects and places a soothing hand on Perryn's shoulder. "Come on."

 

 **They return to the Grove to ask Caithe for advice, and the firstborn offers to help.**  
"Spy?" Jairas smiles crookedly. "That is right up my alley."

"Let's go put that to the test." Perryn grins back.

 

 **The trio watch Nightmare Courtiers in Aron's Woodlot avidly recruiting impressionable saplings and hatch a plan to glean the whereabouts of the White Stag.**  
"Subterfuge." Jairas wrings his hands together. "You might want to let me handle this one."

"I'll hide with Caithe then." Perryn smirks, "Let's see you work your magic."

Jairas makes his way down toward where the Nightmare courtiers have assembled.  
A female Nightmare Courtier notices him first and gives him a crooked grin.  
Jairas averts his eyes timidly and shuffles nervously with his feet.  
"You seem clever, sapling. Do you have any question about the Nightmare Court?"  
"A few, but I'm shy." Jairas answers, shoulders dropping forward and eyes glancing over the fellow other sylvari, "Can we talk where others will not see?"  
"But of course we can, my pretty one..."

Perryn lets a snort slip and quickly covers his mouth before he blows their cover. Pretty? Jai? Yeah right.  
Caithe gives him a pointed glare and shakes her head.

 

 **After Jairas lures the Courtier to the awaiting Caithe and Perryn, she reveals the location of the stag after some intimidation and threats. Caithe kills her, despite Perryn's and Jairas' protests.**  
Jairas glances at the dead body of the Nightmare Courtier and reluctantly lifts his gaze. "What do you think we should do, Perry?"

Perryn shuffles closer to Jai's side, away from Caithe's calculating gaze. "Remind me not to get on her bad side."

Jairas smiles and whispers back, "I will."

"Disguises are your field of expertise. How would you like a little bit more action?"

Jairas jabs Perryn with his elbow lightly. "Getting cosy over here, hm? Alright, I'm going in."

 

 **Ambushing some patrolling courtiers, they take their uniforms and infiltrate the Nightmare camp.**  
Jairas takes a deep breath before he meets Sariel.

"You can do this." Perryn encourages in hushed tones, "I'm right here." He picks up a spikeroot, ready.

 

 **Jairas convinces Sauriel to leave camp with a few well-told lies.**  
"That..." Jairas blinks after Sariel. "...Was easier than expected. She is more gullible than a Fern Hound."

"Honestly I thought these disguises were pretty flimsy." Perryn tugs at the red leaves and drops the fruit, "Maybe we're giving them more credit than we should."

"Red is my colour." Grins Jairas.

“It looked better on the corpse.” Perryn retorts.

 

 **Freeing the White Stag from the Nightmare's clutches, they rally to Dreamer's Terrace and await on edge for the incoming assault.**  
"They certainly packed, huh."

"With this many people I hope the Court brought enough opponents to slay."

"So bloodthirsty." Jairas notices. "Has Gavin's betrayal cut that deep?"

"He lied to us. Tried to kill us." Perryn steels his gaze to the entrance, "His continued existence on this earth is unforgivable."

"I know you feel strongly about this," Jairas amends and once again lifts his hand to place it soothingly atop Perryn's shoulder. "But don't let the emotion cloud your mind."

"When Gavin is gone from our lives there will be no more clouds." Perryn squares his shoulders, "I'll rally with the Wardens. See what Caithe wants."

 

 **Caithe is interrupted as the assault begins, waves upon waves of Nightmare Courtiers fall before Gavin saunters into view and challenges Jairas for the White Stag in honourable combat.**  
"Gavin..." Perryn growls.

"Hold, Perry." Jairas holds out a hand to stop him. "I've got this."

Perryn moves to push past Jairas but stops and composes himself. After a calming breath he nods, "You've got this, Jai."

 

 **Gavin underestimates Jairas’ small, agile form and is swiftly cut down with deadly precision. The Wardens breathe easy as the White Stag remains in the Grove.**  
"We've done it." Jairas looks after the white Stag as it disappears. "That's one Hunt down."

"One left to go." Perryn beams at Jairas, "Do you think Mother will be proud?"

"Yes." Jairas grins back. "I'm sure."

 

 **Summoned to the Omphalos Chamber, Perryn and Jairas meet the Pale Mother for the first time.**  
"She's..." Jairas looks at the Avatar in awe. "She's so beautiful."

Perryn can't find the words and responds with a quiet "...yeah."

 

 **The Mother Tree greets them lovingly, her voice calm yet stern as she elaborates on their dream and tasks Perryn to defeat Zhaitan.**  
"Zhaitan...slaying an Elder Dragon..." Perryn turns to Jairas in a daze, "Do you know what this means?"

"We need some food." Jairas grins.

"We need some food!" Perryn sings, looping an arm around Jairas.

Jairas laughs. "Alright, come on then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Did you like it? Hate it? Ambivalent? Was there enough context or would you prefer if story dialogue is added in? Tell us down in the comments! We'd love to hear from you.


	2. The Teachings of Ventari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Are you well? Remain strong.  
> This chapter we go through 'Where life goes, so too should you.' in the hopes that Anet will one day answer all our prayers and give us an update on it XD
> 
> Have fun and enjoy <3

**Returning to Dreamer’s Terrace, Caithe introduces Perryn and Jairas to firstborn Trahearne. Their meeting is cut short when a messenger informs them the Nightmare Court are executing a three-pronged assault, in search of the Harbinger and they are tasked with defending Falias Thorp.**  
"Having two firstborns in the same room sure is daunting." Perryn chuckles nervously. "What do you suppose this 'Harbinger' is?"

"A weapon perhaps." Jairas scratches the back of his neck, "It would not surprise me - not after what we have already witnessed from the Nightmare Court."  
"Our task must be truly significant if two firstborn meddle."

"Well whatever it is, we can't let the Court have it." He affirms, "Let's go help out those Wardens, they may know something."

"Agreed."

 

 **Heading deep into Wychmire Swamp, they find the Falias Thorp set ablaze.**  
"That doesn't look good." Perryn remarks.

"Nightmare Court." Jairas hisses.

“Let’s hurry.” 

They pick up the pace, arriving in time to see a lone Sylvari dragging out the unconscious Wardens from their burning homes and make haste to assist. Jairas draws his bow, releasing a volley of arrows into the incoming courtiers. He keeps the wave of enemies at bay while Perryn quickly grabs a bucket to douse the flames.

 

 **After fighting off the Nightmare incursion, they discover the Harbinger is a strange sylvari named Malyck and learn of his diverging origin.**  
"How..." Jairas pulls Perryn aside. "How is this possible?"

"How can a Sylvari not be from the Grove?" Perryn looks just as confused. "Can we trust him?"

Jairas studies Malyck with keen intensity. "I...I can't see any hint of dishonesty. Not in his posture, his voice..."

"Gavin was the same..." Perryn's eyes darken, "Be on your guard."

"I'm always on my guard." Jairas rolls his eyes.

He laughs at that. "Whatever you say, Jai."

"Why do I even put up with you?" Jairas asks teasingly.

"Because we're dream bonded~" Perryn coos mockingly, laughing at his own joke as they head to Joy's End.

 

 **Intent on rescuing the captured Wardens, Malyck suggests they infiltrate the Nightmare camp using disguises.**  
"This plan is sounding awfully familiar." Perryn notes as he tugs on the gaudy, red uniform and gives Jairas a pointed stare.

"Ahem." Jairas coughs, looking away sheepishly.

As they march slowly into the camp, Perryn whispers to Jairas between his teeth, "Let's hope you've rubbed off a little on me, acting isn't really my style."

"No kidding."

The crack of a whip and the sound of a courtier yelping as they hit the ground brings their attention to the Knight of Embers marching steadfast towards them.

“Uh-Oh.” Jairas goes stiff as the Knight of Embers marches straight for them.

“You there! You're new. Can you follow orders, courtier?” The Knight points haughtily at Perryn.

“Uhm...me? Er...yes, ma'am? My lady?” He fumbles, standing rigid and giving her a salute.

“Then you're in charge. Make these wretched wardens talk.” She pushes past him, storming out of the camp.

“Phew, she bought it.” He sighs in relief, slumping back down as she turns away.

"Not so bad." Jairas grins.

Left to their own devices, it doesn’t take long for the courtiers to notice they’ve freed the prisoners. The entire camp goes in a frenzy honing in on their position.

"Well no need for disguises now." Perryn sheds off the garb, "Now we fight."

"Ha." Jairas shrugs off the red leaves, "From the pan into the fire."

 

 **At Perryn’s insistence, Malyck agrees to return to the Grove to uncover his lost memory.**  
"Strange."

"Yes I don't feel his connection to the Dream either." Perryn frowns, "Perhaps he has been too long from the Mother Tree."

"Just imagine what the disconnection must feel like." Jairas shudders at the thought.

"Probably similar to how it would feel getting away from you." Perryn teases, "A welcome respite."

Jairas throws him a glare. "This seems to be my cue to leave you here, alone." Jairas says and stalks off.

Perryn chuckles lightly watching the smaller man leave in a huff, “Cute.”

 

 **Jairas makes his way to Caithe’s house alone, spotting Perryn down the path.**  
"Ah, there you are." Jairas unfolds his arms, "Thought you got lost."

"Well fancy seeing you here, Jai." Perryn gives him a charming grin, "Miss me already?"

"Not on your life." Jairas grumbles, "Come on, they're waiting on you."

He blows a kiss in Jairas' direction, grinning at the resulting eye-roll before stepping into the Firstborn's home.

 

 **Caithe and Trahearne both offer a means to recovering Malyck’s memory; investigate the river he was found in or consult a seer to look deeper into the Dream.**  
Perryn convenes with Jairas in the other room.  
"A practical or spiritual approach. Both are sound plans, what do you think?"

"Hum. Both could go wrong, but I think that if after two weeks his memory has not returned on its own, Caithe's plan will bear no fruit either."

"Than we'll seek answers from the seer." Perryn concludes, "Let's go with Trahearne."

 

 **They meet Trahearne and Malyck on the edges of Zinder Slope in Brisban Wildlands.**  
“Look! It's Trahearne—one of the firstborn. I've never met him.” A villager gasps, pointing him out to her friend who raises a brow and adds,  
“He spends all his time in Orr. Don't you think he's...strange?”

Perryn eavesdrops on their conversation, looking at the firstborn with interest then turns to Jairas.  
"Do you think it gets lonely in Orr?" 

"Trahearne is a Necromancer. Perhaps the company of undead does not quite unnerve him as it would us."  
"But...yes." Jairas adds after a few moments. "I think it's...lonely."

"Well, at least we'd have each other." Perryn smiles down at Jairas, "Think you'll forgive me yet?"

Jairas looks up at Perryn surprised and when he meets his eyes, he quickly glances away. "...Maybe."

"Good, let's not keep them waiting."

 

 **Amaranda’s skills as a seer are called into question, Trahearne reassures them as they walk towards her camp.**  
“If she studies the Dream, why does she live so far from the Grove?” Perryn asks.

“Because she is so sensitive to it. She can feel every ebb and flow, like the tide feels the moon. Only far from the Tree can she gain perspective.”

“And this woman—your friend—you believe she can help me?” Malyck adds, voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes. If the Nightmare Court has robbed you of your memory and connection to the Dream, Malyck, she will heal you.” Trahearne assuages confidently.

“And if they have not? What answer will she give us then?”

“Something true. The Dream cannot lie. That is its nature.”

"The Dream does not lie." Jairas echoes thoughtfully.

"Who would have thought there would be such as thing as too much clarity?" Perryn quips walking beside Jairas behind the other two, “Let’s hope Amaranda is as intune as Trahearne says.”

 

 **Amaranda welcomes them with open arms, gazing upon Malyck’s dream and confirms he is not from the Grove, rather he originates from another Tree. The Knight of Embers reveals herself soon after, intent to take this information to the Grand Duchess and they decide she must be silenced.**  
"There's more then?" Jairas frowns thoughtfully. "More Trees?"

"Seems like it." Perryn nods, "What are other Groves even like? My head hurts just thinking about it."

"Let's quickly find the Knight of Embers before you get your pretty head in a twist." Jairas quips.

"Aw you think I'm pretty?" Perryn bats his eyelashes at him, "Let's end her before she spills the beans."

 

 **On the way to Beldame’s Rise, they race to meet Trahearne and Malyck.**  
Perryn takes a couple of wheezing breaths. "Has anyone ever told you shadowstepping is cheating?"

"Oh?" Jarais gives a crooked smile. "Are you telling me you can't keep up?"

"No, I just thought I'd point out the handicap I'm giving you." Perryn bites back playfully between breaths.

At that Jairas' eyes soften. "You are not."

 

 **Malyck brings out the disguises they used at Joy’s End, planning to have them escort him as an initiate in order to sneak into the camp.**  
"Not again." Jairas sighs and sifts through the red leaves.

"Tell me about it." Perryn groans, "If the Court weren't so easily fooled we wouldn't have to keep parading ourselves in these."

"Tough luck."

“Won’t they be suspicious of this trick by now?” Perryn looks exasperated at Malyck.

“Since I won't be disguised, they'll be suspicious—but your silver tongue can get us past the door.” Malyck replies as he hands his outfit to Trahearne.

The group quickly don their costumes, Malyck playing the meek, innocent sapling convincingly as they march towards the camp and spot the guardsmen standing menacing with suspicious leers. 

"Let's just get this over with." Perryn mumbles between his teeth, flashing a winning smile as they reach the entrance, "Why hello there, fellow courtiers!" 

Jairas suppresses a groan and a face-palm.

 

 **When they locate the Knight of Embers, they drop all pretenses and proceed to eradicate the entire encampment.**  
"Well," Perryn dusts off his shoulders, "Seems like my ‘silver-tongue’ wasn't needed after all. Why don’t we ever just open with an assault?"

"Because barging in announced is harder than to deal with the enemies when they least expect it." Jairas explains.

"Yes but you have to admit, hitting them is more fun than talking."

"If I land a superb backstab, then yes." Jairas agrees with a smirk.

“We gut them on both sides." Perryn grins devilishly then stretches, cracking the bark on his spine comfortably, "Well, I like destroying Nightmare Court bases as much as the next guy but we should be on our way."

"Oh?" Jairas glances around. "Where are we headed?"

"Further west," He points, "There's always a bandit hideout or two looking to get plundered." Perryn turns to Jairas with a wink, "It's not stealing if it's stolen goods."

"Why, you're insatiable." Jairas laughs. "A bit of justice delivered." With a haughty, boisterous voice he adds, "Here comes Perry, saviour of the goods!"

Perryn mimics the voice, "And as saviour, I say I should also have a share!" He pauses, "Unless of course you want to tell Mother of our good deeds first?"

"We could tell her that we have, additionally to preventing a complete catastrophe that would have involved the Nightmare Court, that we have also liberated the world of some bandits."

"Well when you put it like that, it won't be as impressive if we don't defeat some bandits before telling her." Perryn smiles cheekily and breaks off into a run, "Last one to the bandit camp has to pay for dinner!"

"What- hey!" Is all Jairas manages before Perryn dashes off.


	3. Justice for Riannoc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone~
> 
> This time we'll be helping out the Orders, because everyone _loves_ running back and forth (A+ game design, Anet). Do you have a favourite Order? Tell us in the comments!
> 
> Have fun <3

**Walking back beneath the dense canopy of Zinder Slopes, they revel in the spoils they procured from the nearby highwayman camps.**  
"Those bandits didn't know what hit them!" Perryn gloats, heaving the sack of goods over his shoulder. A seed pod floats daintily into his hand, unfurling a letter within. "What's this?"

Jairas steps closer to look over Perryn's shoulder to inspect the piece of parchment.

"We're being summoned again, Caithe says Mother needs us to settle a dispute."

"Did she specifically ask for us? She must know by now that talking is not your forte." Jairas grins teasingly.

"She certainly wasn't just looking for _you._ " Perryn bites back playfully, "Do you even _like_ people?"

"I like them just fine, thank you." Jairas replies with a roll of his eyes, but can't hide his grin.

"I'll believe it when I see it." Perryn flicks the back of Jai's leaves, making them spike up at the back. 

 

 **Eager to see the Pale Mother once more, the two make for the Grove with utmost enthusiasm.**  
"I think I see Caithe over there." He spots her dark silhouette in the distance.

Jairas manages to suppress both the twitch and his shiver and follows Perryn's gaze. "We shouldn't keep her waiting."

 

 **Riding the pod elevator to the Omphalos Chamber, they are bombarded by shouts and jeers. Two Sylvari are caught in a heated argument, Trahearne mediating in between while the Pale Mother, Caithe and another Sylvari stand silently by. Upon their arrival, Perryn is appointed as Herald and is tasked with helping one of the Orders defend Overlake Haven from undead minions.**  
"I still don't understand. Their goals are the same, why does the method matter so much to them?" Perryn scratches his head in frustration, "Help me out here, Jai."

"Many roads lead to the same destination." Jairas explains. "It just seems they haven't grasped that yet. There's no right or wrong in this decision." He takes a deep breath. "But I would go for the approach that is an assured victory."

"Haven't had enough fun with those bandits, huh?" Perryn smiles, "Maybe the Risen will prove a tougher challenge." Punching Jairas on the shoulder he adds, "Besides, with us there what could possibly go wrong?"

Jairas rubs his shoulder theatrically. "I see you are getting ahead of yourself." There's a small pause followed by a crooked grin. "Like always."

"It's not getting ahead if it's true." Perryn grins back.

"I'll make sure to guard your back." Jairas smiles. "Now let's take a look at what this commotion is about."

 

 **They decide to assist the Vigil with clearing out the undead, meeting Branthyn by the front of Overlake Haven in Kessex Hills.**  
Jairas coughs. "What's with this miasma?"

"I could do without the stench." Perryn puts an arm over his nose, "I think I see Branthyn, let's get over there and be done with this place."

Jairas wrinkles his nose and nods in agreement.

 

 **Clearing the Haven of undead, Deputy Jenks rushes over to meet them.**  
“Thank the Six you're here! if you hadn't arrived so quickly, we'd all be dead.”

“Who commands the troops stationed here? We need to organize the defense.” Perryn steps in.

“Er...well...see that zombie over there?” Jenks points owlishly towards the corpse splattered on the pavement.

“Whoops. Well then, I suppose Branthyn, Jai and I will be taking over on behalf of the Vigil.” 

After organising their defenses, Perryn notices the shit-eating grin on Jairas’ face and his glow flares up embarrassed.

“...Whoops?" Jairas echoes. 

“T-They put me on the spot!” Perryn sputters indignantly, “Just stay focused!”

 

 **Even under cannon fire, the waves of Orrians still flood through the Haven. Perryn and Jairas fight tooth and nail against the horde.**  
"Are you OK?" Jairas yells over the fighting.

“Just peachy!”

"You're _blue_!"

“Now’s _not_ the time!” He yells back, kicking a Risen in the face.

 

 **With Vigil reinforcements charging in, the Risen are swiftly dealt with and the Haven is finally secured. As the battlefield clears, a mysterious figure gazes at them from afar before vanishing with the wind.**  
"What'd I tell you? With us here, everything went great." Perryn puffs out his chest, looking down cheekily at Jairas. 

Jairas chuckles at that. "True. The Vigil seem like a capable bunch." He turns to look over his shoulder where he catches Branthyn smiling toward them. "She seems to like you." 

Perryn glances over to her quickly, turning back to hide the flare of his glow. "How do you know she's not looking at you?" 

"Ah," Jairas shifts a little and it's clear he had not even considered it. "Well, she asked you to join, after all. And...she looked impressed when you took down the large Abomination."

"Sure that wasn't just you?" Perryn gives him a grin, "I also seem to recall you taking down an impressive number of them with that backstab of yours."

"Well," Jairas is clearly flustered now, "It's your fault for being a distraction to allies and enemies alike. It makes my work easier." 

"Maybe people just have trouble seeing you when you stand behind me, tiny." Perryn ruffles his leaves, "Let's go tell Mother of our overwhelming victory. Maybe she can tell us what that creature was as well." 

Jairas lowers his head, his cheeks feeling warm. "Yeah." He says. "Let's."

 

 **They return to the Omphalos Chamber, this time it is Iowerth and the Whispers agent Kai that are in the middle of a heated argument when they arrive.**  
"Aaaand they are at it again." Jairas sighs and shakes his head.

"We should go break that up before they really go at each other's throats."

"I don't know." Jairas grins. "Might be fun to just watch."

"You're incorrigible." Perryn chuckles, composing himself before walking up to the fighting pair. "Alright, what’s all this about?"

 

 **New information has surfaced about the whereabouts of Caladbolg and they are tasked with retrieving it and uncovering what happened to its previous wielder, Firstborn Riannoc.**  
Perryn listens to each plan, nodding attentively. He gives Jairas some side glances, signalling him to convene away from prying ears.

Noticing Perryn's glance he gives a curt nod before he turns and walks a small distance out of earshot.  
"Riannoc's death was the first testimony of our mortality." Jairas murmurs. "Can you imagine what his last moments must have been like? We'd be the first to know...to actually see what happened."

"It would be a lot clearer than getting a human to recall something so long ago." Perryn mulls over, sneaking a peak at the Pale Mother’s and Trahearne's forlorn expressions, "And we owe it to them to have that clarity.”

"Yes." Jairas agrees and follows his gaze. "Let us find out first-hand what happened and why the squire chose to disappear."

Perryn nods and turns back to the representatives. "Both are sound plans. But I will have to go with Iowerth. If this ritual works, it's too valuable of an asset not to use."

 

 **After wading through Kessex Hills they reach the edge of Lychcroft Mere, a swamp that is replete with water by the Viathan Lake.**  
"It's so...quiet." Jairas stares out toward the trees in the distance thoughtfully. "It feels eerie."

"Getting a bit jittery?" Perryn leans over, "We _are_ going to Riannoc's deathbed."

"Was that supposed to be positive reinforcement?" Jairas asks and looks up at Perryn with a frown, eyes lingering on the glowing tips of his foliage.

"I'm _positive_ you just don't want to get wet again." Perryn chuckles.

"Pff." Jairas makes and wades right in. "Don't be ridiculous. I am not made of sugar." 

Perryn watches appreciatively as his body sinks further into the water before muttering under his breath, "But the view sure is sweet." 

 

 **They reach Riannoc’s grave located to the west of Shadowheart Site, a remote, small and inconspicuous place if not for the large leaf engraved with a glowing glyph that piques interest.**  
Jairas inspects the grave, staring thoughtfully for a few seconds, face unreadable.

Perryn watches Jairas from afar, barely listening to Iowerth's explanation.  
He walks over to Jai, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and shaking him out of his reverie. "You ready?" 

"Hm?" Jairas blinks up at Perryn. "Ah, yes. Let's go." 

 

 **Iowerth instructs them on how to proceed, and Perryn and Jairas are pulled into the past, reliving Riannoc’s final moments and Waine’s betrayal.**  
"Riannoc no—!" Perryn reaches out but the vision is gone. His thoughts thunder loud in his ears and he looks over at Jairas with pained eyes, "How could Waine do it? He trusted him..." 

"Perry." Jairas says softly but firmly and tugs Perryn's arm down gently. "It's...done. We can't change the past but..." He looks over at Iowerth who is glancing away. "We can only try to make it right. Somehow." 

Perryn clenches his fist determined. "We will get Caladbolg back." He marches over to Iowerth.

"It was a child." Jairas murmurs and shakes his head. "I thought the human squire would be a full grown man, but it was a child."

"Be that as it may, the fact of the matter is the sword is still missing after all this time—he _kept_ it ." Perryn glares, "I won't go easy on him." 

Jairas musters him closely and then says reassuringly, "I know you won’t. We won’t. If we confront the squire with anger, we only invite his own. We must remember he was but a child that knew nothing of Undead or death."

Perryn stares into Jai's calm eyes and slumps slightly, still feeling raw anger but finding no fault with his reasoning he sighs. "We'll check back in with the Grove." 

 

 **At a moment’s notice they return to the Grove to share their discovery of Riannoc’s fate.**  
Jairas blinks at Iowerth in confusion as the Priory member approaches Perryn and exchanges a few quick words before turning away again. "What did he say?" Jairas gleans.

Perryn glares, anger reignited. "He says the lout's been using Caladbolg for petty pit fights!" He storms towards the representatives, not waiting for Jairas to respond. 

"There's no need to rig a fight that I'll win." He steps between the two, "I'll pry Caladbolg from his wretched corpse."

Jairas watches Perryn's outburst with a hint of sorrowful contemplation and doesn't try to alleviate the anger this time and simply tags along quietly. 

 

 **At the Fighting Pit they catch a glimpse of Waine the Betrayer and the sword Caladbolg in the ring, being used for naught but trivial jousting.**  
"You are going to fight him?" Jairas asks before Perryn can storm toward the registration. 

Perryn stares down at the pit at the treasonous snake and gives Jairas a pointed look. "Are you going to stop me?"

Jairas only raises his eyebrows and lets the question sink in, waiting for Perryn to realise that he did not only sound foolish, but also was venting anger unnecessarily. "No," Jairas answers, "But that down there is Caladbolg, and a human who clearly knows how to fight."

Perryn calms down when Jairas throws him a look, knowing he’s taking his anger out on the wrong person. The real criminal is parading Caladbolg around like a toy in the pit.  
"Are you having doubts?" He gives Jairas an almost feral grin, "We'll see who the real fighter is." Marching over to the registry he throws a wave back, "Wish me luck!"

Jairas stares after Perryn and shakes his head with a smile and mutters under his breath, "We both know he needs it more than you do." 

 

 **Perryn registers for the tournament and faces his first opponent, the asura Bezix the Brainstormer.**  
“A sylvari?” the asura belittles, “Oh dear, I'm going to chop you to bits and use you as kindling.”

"I wanna see you try." Jairas hisses at the asura from atop the rampart.

Perryn smirks hearing Jai’s jeers from above, his voice reinvigorating him.

 

 **Perryn defeats all combatants and fells Waine with ease, seizing Caladbolg as his prize.**  
He picks up Caladbolg, feeling its power course through him and looks up at Jairas with a joyous grin, waving the sword in his direction. 

Jairas grins back and gives him a proud, curt nod as Perryn ascends toward the spectator's area.  
"That was well fought." Jairas admits and then brushes over a piece of sylvari armour on Perryn's flank that dishevelled during the fight and smothers it against Perryn's bark.

Perryn flinches at the touch but lets Jairas finish tidying before snickering, “Thank you, mother dearest.” 

Jairas resists the urge to pinch him and glances over toward Branthyn who is definitely staring. Quickly he retracts his hand and nods toward her. "Go on." 

Branthyn is overjoyed with Perryn’s victory, fawning over his fighting capabilities.  
“You were amazing down there! Your combat prowess is really something.” She grins, unable to contain her glee, “I'm serious when I say you should consider joining my order.” Thankfully Perryn is saved from giving an answer since Branthyn continues, “Waine had been carrying that burden for so long, it was probably a relief to die at the hands of someone who knew the truth.”

Perryn agrees, thoughtfully replying, “You're right. I could see it in his eyes. He seemed almost...grateful.”

Branthyn nods in understanding and offers to take Caladbolg to the Pale Tree, suggesting they meet back at the Omphalos Chamber before she departs. 

"You should seriously consider joining my order," Jairas mimics under his breath. 

"What?" Perryn smirks back at Jairas, "A bunch of meatheads not to your taste?"

"Ah, no." Jairas pretends to scratch his neck. “Let’s go back to the Pale Tree.”

 

 **They return to the Grove where Perryn is faced with the three Representatives and the decision to join one of the Orders of Tyria.**  
Perryn swallows a gulp as six pairs of eyes stare him down. "Give me a moment to think." He manages before turning back to Jairas. 

"They seriously want me to join an order." Perryn tells Jairas in a hushed voice, "We both saw the dragon in our dream, which order do you think will benefit our hunt the most?" He presses his hands onto his temple rubbing them thoughtfully,  
"The Vigil have the manpower, the Priory have an untold amount of knowledge we could use and who knows just how far the Whispers’ connections can get us?"

"They all want you," Jairas notices and glances over at the Representatives. "I can't blame them." A moment passes before he notices how very strange that sounds and quickly stutters, "Ah. I mean-" He gulps and quickly continues before Perryn can answer, "I mean that while I agree, I think that the Priory has everything. Remember the golems? That's firepower if needed, they have the resources and the people. I think we would profit from them most."

"Well," Perryn smiles, choosing not to comment on Jairas’ slip and instead pat his shoulder gratefully, "you do know best." 

"A good defense is a good offense," Perryn starts, walking up to the Representatives, "but a great defense is taking out your enemy before they even have a chance to strike." He looks to Iowerth, "Let's go find that tomb and pay Mazdak a visit."

 

 **The representatives disperse to make their respective preparations, and the Pale Tree consigns Caladbolg to Perryn. Together Perryn and Jairas make their way toward the seedpod that will carry them back toward the Grove below.**  
"A lich." Jairas murmurs thoughtfully. "Do you think it will be more challenging than the other Risen that we have fought?"

"As long as we have each other, we're unstoppable." Perryn sheathes Caladbolg on his back, "I say bring it on!"

Jairas raises his eyebrow and looks up at him, a retort at the tip of his tongue that dies when their eyes lock. For a moment his jaw hangs open before he closes it, gulps and nods. "Yeah. The world's definitely better off with one less Lich."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Perryn says sounding more eager than ever before, "Let's go make the world a better place."

Jairas chuckles. "Right behind you." 

 

 **Walking towards the Provernic Crypt in the Gendarran fields.**  
"How's it feel?" Jairas asks. "Caladbolg, I mean."

"It's hard to describe," He ponders walking abreast. "I feel stronger but not just in body, it's like a calming sea washing over hot sand." He looks down thoughtfully at Jairas, "Kind of like how you always try and talk me out of things." Perryn thinks back fondly and then chuckles, "Except way less annoying." 

"Ah, yes," Jairas chuckles, "A voice of reason must be annoying amidst the chaos of your mind." 

"Admit it, it would get terribly dull for you if I was always so rational."

"Yeah," Jairas replies sarcastically, "Whatever would the use of me be in such a dull world?" 

"So," Jairas calls with a laugh over his shoulder, "Can you keep up?" 

"Wha-Hey!" He shouts watching Jairas shadowstepping away.

 

 **They race across the field, Jairas reaches the Provernic Crypt first.**  
Jairas hums an innocent tune with his arms folded in front of his chest, looking quite pleased with himself. 

Perryn catches up with the Thief, for once not so out of breath. "Alright, you win this time."  
Looking over at the ominous ruins he bows, sweeping his arms outwards in a teasing gentlemanly manner, "After you, winner.”

There is an excited gleam in Jairas eyes at the words. "Why, thank you." 

 

 **Together with Trahearne, Caithe and Iowerth they descend below into the Crypt, facing a series of challenges, avoiding traps and summoning a ghost to open the locked gate.**  
"Look at that, you made a friend.”

Perryn rolls his eyes at Jairas’ remark, watching pensively as the apparition floats over the traps and speeds ahead.  
“I hope he knows we’re not intangible too.” 

 

 **The last door is sealed shut, the torches emitting a ghostly light and the phrase upon the door the only indication that a riddle is at hand.**  
“They sacrificed their lives in our darkest hour. Light will honor them in kind.” Trahearne reads aloud, and it is Iowerth who shrugs.

“Light means fire. So what can we set on fire around here?”

Perryn moves to inspect one of the torches, makes an excited “Oh!” and dashes off into the corridor, three pairs of eyes blinking after him in wonder before Jairas gives chase. 

"How about," Jairas begins, "you don't just rush off into dark corridors without me, yes?" 

“But look what I’ve got.” He waves around the crusty leg bone of unknown origin. “This should work.”

Jairas inspects the item in question. "It...should?" 

"They sacrificed their lives in our darkest hour.” Perryn recites the riddle, “This is a Krytan tomb ergo only a protector of Kryta can open the gate." He explains confidently, “And the inscription inside the torch mentioned ‘bones of the ancestors’. ” He shakes the bone to emphasise his point, "Unless this is from a cave dweller, this must come from one of the guards of old." His smile falters slightly when he thinks about how ridiculous it sounds out loud. "Um...it's worth a shot?"

Jairas chuckles at the news. "OK then. Let's try giving the door a beating with an old bone." He leads them back out towards where the others are waiting.

Jairas makes a few strange movements as he tries to peel off spiderwebs. "Sticking everywhere." he mutters. 

“That’s a good look for you.” Perryn quips, waving the bone in front of the torch in a ritualistic manner. Nothing happens until he dips the bone inside and a mystical green flame ignites.

"So..." Jairas gulps. "What waits on the other side, exactly?"

"Hopefully something we can hit." Perryn says lighting the last torch, "Get ready." 

 

 **Perryn wielding Caladbolg gives them an edge in the fight against the lich, and they slay Mazdak the Accursed.**  
"Heh." Jairas wedges his two daggers. "You were right. Nothing to worry about." 

"As if you had any doubts." He grins at Jairas then looks down at the blade in his hands, "Caladbolg is more powerful than I would have ever imagined..." He's reluctant to part with it but slowly hands it to the Firstborn. "It belongs back with Mother. See that she gets it, Trahearne."

"You look almost rueful to let it go." Jairas notices, "You are strong without it, too." 

Perryn looks almost bashful at the compliment. "I am sad to see it kept away from battle, but we've never needed it before." He gives Jairas a small sincere smile, "We're unstoppable together." 

He looks away as if he's said too much, the glow through his leaves shines brighter as he speaks, "So we're novices of the Priory huh? I wonder what their headquarters is like." He starts to ramble further as they leave the crypt, "And we're meeting Destiny's Edge! I hear they're the stuff of legend, what will they be like in person I wonder."

Jairas smiled, warmth spreading from his body into his limbs. He walks abreast with Perryn, taking the steps of the crypt carefully. "No matter where we're going, I'm with you, always." Jairas murmurs, feels that the words need to get out even though they feel like a force much greater than himself. "No matter what the Priory headquarters look like." He jokes and tries not to think too much has he too babbles on, "If Caithe is any indication, I imagine they are people. Just like us." 

If he had heard Jairas' soft spoken words then he makes no hint of it, letting his mouth run all the way to Lion’s Arch.


	4. Order Neophyte

**While assisting the Lionguard with retrieving stolen food supplies in Silverspur Front as they pass by on their journey to Lion’s Arch, they come across the Troll chief inside the icy caves.**  
Jairas twirls his dagger and shoots it into the air, flinging it with precision into the Troll's thigh. The creature lets out a loud bellow and seeing his opportunity he shadowsteps forward, ripping the dagger from the flesh with a satisfied smirk.

He gyrates around, avoiding the large Troll’s arm that swings by over his head and sees Perryn lunge forward from the corner of his eye before he strikes once with the dagger and clouds himself in stealth.

Perryn must have struck true because the creature lets out another wail that ripples through the tunnel and the rocks overhead, and a piercing, ringing noise makes Jairas deaf and leaves him stunned for a bare fraction of second, but it is enough. 

A large force slams into Jairas, thick fingers that are large enough to encumber his throat lifting him from the ground, bringing him not only from his daze but from his stealth as well.

Perryn jerks to his right, hearing Jaira’s choked gasp as the Troll crushes his throat between its disgusting fat fingers. He bends low, gripping his blade tight and lunges. With a pivot of his waist, he sends himself spinning aiming for the Troll’s thick wrist with acute precision and his greatsword slides through easily from the force of his landing. 

The Troll wails in agony as its meaty hand falls from its body and Perryn lets out a snort when he hears Jairas’ soft grunt falling to the ground, pressed beneath the severed limb.  
“Need a hand?” He snickers, sneaking glances at his partner struggling to get free.

Jairas hauls the hand away from his throat and body, hearing it slap somewhere further away as he coughs and stumbles to his feet. "It's still..." Jairas croaks and nods with his head toward the enraged Troll, "still alive." 

Perryn looks at the sloppy trail of blood leading further into the cave and shrugs,  
“Not for long.” He grabs Jairas’ arm, hauling him up and steady with a grin.

 

**Through the gate in Cornucopian Field, they enter Lion’s Arch- a melting pot where all races gather and trade.**  
"I can't believe we'll be meeting with Destiny's Edge!" Perryn says with a bounce in his step, turning to Jairas excitedly, "They went toe-to-toe with an Elder Dragon, I hear." 

Jairas is too perplexed by the splendour and the brilliance of the city to hear Perryn's excitement, murmuring almost absent-mindedly as his gaze drifts, "And failed."

"Well, closer than anyone else has." He gives the city a quick once over, finding the awe shining on the man's face much more intriguing. He covers his blatant staring with a cough and pushes onward. "At least until we take a crack at it." His voice determined and completely confident. 

Jairas doesn't notice the stare, but he does glance at Perryn and smiles. "Yeah. Destiny's Edge may have failed, but perhaps there is something we can learn from their mistakes - to ensure we do not make the same.”

"Caithe did say they parted on bad terms..." He muses, "We fight sometimes but we always come back right? I'm sure with Zhaitan looming over us, they will do the right thing." 

 

**By the Lion Statue Fountain, Caithe tries to reunite Destiny’s Edge and fails.**  
Perryn watches Destiny's Edge disperse in utter disbelief, "How can they be so petty? Shouldn't they know the threat of an Elder Dragon best?” He turns to Jairas with a dejected sigh. "So much for learning anything. They can't even hold a conversation." 

Jairas looks thoughtful. "So much bad blood there. But we can learn something from this: Failure can make or break friendships." He looks up at Perryn, suddenly serious. "And that a common enemy is not enough. I just wonder what Eir is going to do...she seemed to be in a rush."

"Whatever it is, I hope she does it quick. I think Rytlock was going to rip out Logan's throat." Perryn scratches his head, "I hope our meeting with the Priory isn't as disappointing." 

"Oh, look." Jairas manages to catch the seed carrier from the air with a deft movement of his hand. "It's...It's from someone named Sieran. She wants to escort us to the Durmand Priory." 

He gives the letter a read, nodding approvingly, "She sounds nice. Adventure is right up our alley." Folding the parchment neatly he starts heading towards the Black Lion HQ, "Let's not keep her waiting." 

 

**From the distance they observe an asura standing in front of the Black Lion’s Trading Company HQ’s.**  
Perryn squints at the stern asuran in the distance, "Do you think that's her? Doesn't look all that cheerful." He grins at Jai, "But maybe that's what a happy asuran looks like."

Jairas tries to hide his chuckle and fails. "Only one way to find out."

 

**They approach the asura and find out it is Steward Gixx, the leader of the Durmand Priory who quickly introduces himself and what the Durmand Priory’s mission is before departing.**  
Perryn whispers as Gixx struts away, "Did the head of our order come down just to greet us?" His glow sparkles brighter and he walks a little straighter up the stairs.

"Apparently." Jairas blinks, similarly surprised. He let's Perryn take the lead, knowing fully well that the Guardian's impression will be much more promising and impressive than his own.

 

**Moving on they meet Sieran who, after briefly introducing herself, decides to take them on a detour inside a Dwarven Tomb instead of straight to the Order headquarters.**  
"Exploring a tomb on our first day, I knew we picked the right Order!" He was expecting to delve straight into research but bruising a few rowdy Dredge on the way suited him just fine. Perryn smiles at Jairas like an over-eager puppy. "Ready to go?" 

Jairas chuckles once again. "I did not know that caves and tombs excited you so. Why, I'll plan a holiday for the future." Jairas himself would not have minded walking through the library, palm splayed over the back of books packed into old, worn and dusty shelves with only torches and candles to form dim light.

"Let's hope it's real so you don't get excited over nothing." He adds with a grin.

"Oh I know you're excited too underneath all that book-smart." Perryn punches him lightly on the shoulder, "You mean let's hope those artifacts are there so you have something to fawn over!"

Jairas looks a little sheepish when he pretends to focus on something in the distance. "Maybe a little." He admits timidly. "Come on. Seiran told us not to keep her waiting."

 

**After a stern scolding from Steward Gixx at their detour, they report their findings and are tasked with recovering the legendary Sanguinary Blade from the ruins north of Mistriven Gorge.**  
Jairas ducks beneath the stone arch, giving it a curious glance over. "Aaaand here we go again." As he steps forward he musters the ruins with piqued interest. "Not even one day on the job and we're already knee-deep in dwarven ruins." He chuckles.

"First a tomb and now ruins? Today just keeps getting better." Perryn lets the breeze inside rustle his leaves refreshingly, taking a look at the drop he throws back a nervous chuckle, "I hope you're not afraid of heights."

Jairas raises his eyebrow when he finally tears his eyes from the weather-worn walls, the murky, moist smell rising in his nose. "No, are you?"

"Nope!" He replies in a higher pitch than normal as the breeze picks up, "Just the falling part." 

Perryn watches the flags carefully and when he feels the winds die down he makes a break for the next wall, Jairas following close behind. The weight of his armour keeps him firmly grounded, but not much can be done for the lighter, smaller sylvari. 

The wind takes hold and lifts Jairas off his feet as they reach the ledge. Instinctively he lunges for him, just managing to grab him by the forearm and pulls with all his might. Their chests slam together and Perryn takes the brunt of the fall as they slide down the wind-bracing bricks.

They slowly catch their breath, gasps coming out in puffs of chilled smoke. He looks down at the dark depths below and gulps, holding onto Jairas a little tighter.  
“Let’s stick together this time, huh?” He manages to utter between his nerves. 

Jairas recovers quickly though still fairly shaken and replies with a solid nod.  
Perryn takes the man’s hand firmly and waits for the right moment. The wind dies down once more and they sprint across the ruins to the other side.

“Hah! That wasn’t so bad!” He laughs, fixing his windswept leaves. He then notices he hasn’t let go of Jairas’ hand and pulls away quickly. 

“Let’s keep going.” He mumbles, walking briskly in front before his glow gives him away. 

Sieran watches the two Novices from across and barely bites back a comment as Perryn breezes by. She does not manage to contain a broad smile however, and Jairas quickly glances away, finding the pattern underneath his feet suddenly very intriguing when he notices the knowing glint in her eyes.

 

**After finding out the blade was stolen by a Son of Svanir, Steag Frostbeard, they plan a means to contain the Sanguinary Blade due to its inherent Dragon corruption.**  
“That sword will corrupt anyone that holds onto it for too long.” Sieran notes grimly, “Before we retrieve it for the Durmand Priory, we'd better find a way to protect ourselves from the corruption.”

“What about the sword's original scabbard?” Perryn suggests, “The dwarves must have made it strong enough to contain the blade.”

“It might be easier to create something our own, using Priory knowledge.” The Magister ponders, curling a finger to her chin and then deciding to leave it to them, “Give it a rumble in your brain, and let me know when you've made a choice.”

"So, how well versed are you in the art of making scabbards?" Perryn looks over to Jai, "Think we can make our own?" 

Jairas glances at the daggers that hang loosely from a strap on his belt and back up at Perryn. "I don't think I've ever needed a scabbard in my life." He chuckles,"I actually agree that there has to be a scabbard out there and that it must be nearby." Jairas glances away and scratches the back of his neck. "It's...a smart idea. From, ah, you."

He circles to the side meeting Jairas' face with a devilish grin, "Did I hear that right? A compliment from you?" 

Jairas pointedly stares at the ceiling."Hm? Me? No, no. That must have been the wind." He tries to hide his smile and manages only barely. "Let's go look for your scabbard." 

 

**They locate the scabbard somewhere inside False Lake, the area once housing the infamous Stone Summit Fortress - a renowned Dwarven treasure trove.**  
“We retrieved the scabbard. Now, how do we find the Sanguinary Blade?” Perryn turns the item in his hands quizzically.

“Oh, that's right! I totally forgot to tell you about that part. Oops.” Sieran laughs lightly, “The arcanists back at the Priory used a scrying spell to track Steag. They told me that he's hiding near Black Barl's mill.” Her voice is too bubbly for her next words, sounding almost nonchalant, “We're also on double-secret probation. Turns out Gixx was mad about us not reporting after we went to the tomb.”

“Wait, we were supposed to report in? Sieran!” Perryn calls to her retreating form, she tells them to meet her there and runs off.

"Sieran seems a bit out of it, doesn't she?" Jairas murmurs as he slowly steps out of the water, grimacing as the leather sticks too tightly and uncomfortable to his skin. He glances up at the sky and finds that much to his dismay, it is clouded and he won't dry anytime soon. "I wonder if Gixx will be mad at us, too."

"Not if we come back with the blade." He retorts, standing stock still as the water pours from his armour. He lifts the scabbard up skeptically, shaking the droplets off, "If this still works anyway, who knows how long it's been down there." 

"What does it feel like?" Jairas asks and steps closer, reaching and touching the scabbard with his fingers. He expects to feel something, perhaps a vibration, a hum, or some sort of electric sizzle, but the scabbard doesn't feel magical at all. "Well...we can only hope for the best now. I would rather not meet Gixx without the sword."

"We better get to Black Barl's soon then. Frostbeard could be gone any minute now." 

 

**They find Steag Frostbeard and take back the Sanguinary Blade. Sieran is over the moon with their successful retrievement and suggests heading back to the Priory and report to Steward Gixx.**  
"The dragons are a blight...nothing will satisfy their hunger." He echoes Sieran's words. They spark a fire in his core, he can feel the call getting stronger and he keeps those words close. He looks down at Steag's corrupted corpse then back to Jairas with determination. 

"We will take them all down, for Tyria."

Jairas looks at Perryn with a bit of concern, but he realizes from the fierce determination that it’s the Wyld Hunt sparkling to life. He finds a similar spark inside himself as he gazes upon the blade, even if it seems born from necessity rather than drive. To diffuse the somewhat serious atmosphere he smiles crookedly, "Who, the Svanir?"

Perryn deflates at that, going back to his usual drawl. "Oh yes, I'm sure those bumbling, Jormag-loving fanatics pose a huge threat to the rest of the world." With a click he sheaths the blade and marches on. "We better get back soon or Gixx will be an even bigger threat to us than the dragons!"

Jairas laughs and follows.

 

**They return to the Priory and are assigned to study a ‘lesser’ race.**  
"What is it?" Jairas asks when he walks beside Perryn. "Can't decide?"

"I haven't much thought for these other races," Perryn admits with a shrug, "You like to study, any of them catch your eye?" 

Jairas shakes his head. "How can you not-" But he decides not to tease Perryn about his lack of curiosity.  
"Personally, the hylek intrigue me most. Their alchemy and poison making is...splendid." Jairas glances at a small glass vial that dangles from his belt and makes a face, "My own are, ah, a work-in-progress."

"The hylek are skilled warriors too, a good ally for future endeavours." He doesn't have to ponder further, he knows Jairas always makes the best choice.  
"We could both learn a thing or two from them." 

 

**Walking through Lornar’s Pass, they stare curiously at the scantily clad norn setting up camp.**  
"Brrr." Jairas rolls his shoulders and twitches. "How do these norn stand to not wear proper clothing?"

"I imagine their hides are a lot thicker than ours." Perryn replies, shaking off the snow collecting on his shoulders, "But just looking at them does give me the chills."  
He notices the slight shiver of the smaller man’s shoulders and grins.  
“Want me to warm you up?” He throws a wink in Jairas’ direction.

“That—” Jairas nearly stumbles over his own feet and sees Perryn’s wide, cat-like grin, “That is unnecessary.” He finally brings out and squares his shoulders, attempting to regain some semblance of control. “I’ll just grow an extra leaf or two.”


	5. A Helping Hand

**They meet Sieran on the edges of Bloodtide Coast, ready to conduct their study.**   
“A Practical Guide to hylek Tribes says this one is friendly, but insular.” Sieran notes as they walk towards the tribe, “I suspect "friendly" means "not hostile yet," so we'll need to win their trust.”

"Win their trust?" Perryn turns to Jairas, giving him the most charming smile he can muster, "We're a couple of trustworthy folk, right? How can you not trust this face?" 

Jairas blinks perplexed and manages a stutter, "Ah, well. Maybe they'll trust us if we attempt a less conceited approach, pretty face or no?" 

"Hm, true." Perryn concurs, "But let's hope they find my face as pretty as you do, just in case." He tosses a wink at Jairas before marching on. 

 

**Spotting a distressed hylek, they approach to see if they can assist.**  
"Here we go." Perryn puts on a smile and saunters over to the distraught hylek.

 

The distraught hylek is Ikniu of the Momoztli tribe who explains that his brother Sabiti became the Champion of the Sun, and asks them for help because he fears his brother will be needlessly sacrificed.   
“Do you think we’ll be too late?” Jairas asks concerned. “If this has happened before…”

“Ikniu said they’ve been sending Champions to the sacrificial grounds for a while,” Perryn ponders, looking quite grim, “so we can only hope.”

 

**They follow Ikniu and find a long-dead Sabiti, corrupted by Zhaitan, standing amidst a group of Undead and Iknu infers this is the evidence he needs to convince the High Priestess and the Chief that their sacrifices do more harm than good. After killing Sabiti they behead the hylek to show off Zhaitan’s corruption.**  
"Head on a spike." Jairas mumbles. "It seems...crude."

"Crude but effective." He shakes the bits of frog gore out of his head, "Could do without the smell though." 

 

**The village seems unconvinced, they think of alternative plans.**  
"If this Priestess is as stubborn as the rest of these hylek, I feel like meeting with her won't do us much good." He ponders out loud, looking to Jairas for his input. 

Jairas glances around alarmed and clears his throat as he pulls Perryn a couple of steps out of hearing range.   
"I agree, but perhaps insulting them on their own turf is not the best idea." Jairas checks once again, but thankfully none of the hylek seem to have bothered to listen or to have heard. 

"If the ritual is a tournament as these hylek allude, perhaps it is best to attempt and participate." Jairas then meets Perryn's eyes questioningly. "If you are up for it. I'm sure these hylek have nothing on you." 

"Perryn, Champion of the Sun. It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Perryn puffs out his chest and flexes playfully, "If you think I can then I'll join the tournament. You'll cheer for me, won't you?" 

Jairas chuckles at the vanity. "Champion of the Sun?" He echoes. "It's...definitely something the hylek seem to value and trust, even if you-" He cuts himself off,  
the pulse of his pattern the only indication that he was about to utter something embarrassing and he quickly recovers, "It's - yeah. You can do it. With or without me cheering, I'm sure." 

Perryn doesn't comment on the sudden spike of glow that permeates the smaller man's face, instead he gives Jairas' shoulder a squeeze, "Well I'll just have to give you something to cheer about." He walks over to Sieran to tell her their decision.

"What does that even mean?" Jairas whispers to himself and scratches the back of his neck. 

 

**Perryn participates in the Tournament of the Sun, and Ikniu briefs him on what Perryn can expect.**  
“You must beat three challenges: Vision, Words, and Might. And unless the high priestess says otherwise, you must beat them alone.”

"Vision, Words and Might." Jairas echoes thoughtfully. "I hope it is not a riddle."

A hilarious thought crosses Perryn's mind and he taps his cheek leaning in, "A kiss for good luck?"

"A-" Jairas stutters and his mouth hangs open before he manages, "That is ah, uhm. That." He clears his throat and glances over at Sieran who hums happily and stares off after a firefly in the distance, not minding them at all. Jairas steps closer, hand aloft to reach out for...he's not sure what, but he notices the surprise flicker in Perryn's eyes and backs away again, giving a shaking laugh that misses by a mile and sounds strangled. 

"Kidding. I'm kidding." Jairas tries to sound mirthful - and once again fails to convince anyone. Not even himself. 

Perryn gulps down his nerves. He had said it in jest but he didn't think Jairas would actually...He doesn't think too much about it and laughs along with him. He rustles the purple leaves on top of Jairas' head and runs to join the hylek waiting beyond. 

Jairas gulps and as Perryn leaves shakes his head, palms of his hands clapping against his cheeks. "Come on." He tells himself in a hushed voice. "Don't be an idiot." 

 

**The first trial, Vision, has Perryn man a turret to break some pots. With a few well-aimed shots he proceeds to the next test.**  
"I hope the next one proves more of a challenge." He mumbles to himself as he stares perplexed at the broken shards. 

 

**The second trial, Words, has Perryn boast his accomplishments. He stands in the centre of the circle and regales the crowd with his deeds.**  
“Heh.” Jairas chuckles. “You have a glib tongue if you set your mind to it.”

"We've done many great things, it was harder not to mention you." He replies before entering the fighting ring.

 

**The final trial, Might, has Perryn fight off waves of swamp creatures. When a drake broodmother enters the arena, the rest of the contestants retreat but Perryn surges forward.**  
"Jai, look! I won!" He yells with bits of drake still clinging to his face. 

Jairas smiles and lowers his hands he'd raised to cheer for Perryn. With his finger he points toward his face, gesturing for the bit of drake mush. "There's a bit of— I actually don't know what it is— there." 

Perryn runs up to him and bends down, rubbing his gore-stained cheek onto Jairas' face and leaving a gross line of muck to match his.   
"There! Some victory goop for you." He laughs heartily at the man's stunned expression.

For a mere moment Jairas is too stunned to even move away and just blinks before he wrinkles he nose and frowns, attempting to brush whatever it is from his face.   
"Did you just—?" Jairas asks and manages to swipe it from his face with the back of his hand. "Dogs do that!" Jairas laughs. 

"Well this dog's about to be a Sun Champion!" He boasts and saunters over to the chief.

 

**After Perryn earns his much desired title, he, Sieran and Iknu manage to convince the Chief to return to the village and fortify its defenses where they await the Undead army to approach.**  
"Well." Jairas wedges his blades with a screech and takes a deep breath. "Undead. Are you sure we can hold....this?" 

"We’ll have to try." Perryn gives the fortified walls a test kick, "It would be embarrassing if my first act as Sun Champion is losing the village." 

"This whole title thing seems to get to your head." Jairas chuckles and his fingers curl around part of Perryn's bicep. "You don't need titles. You're fine as you are." With that said Jairas gulps, averts his eyes and stares pointedly at the entrance. 

Perryn relishes the warmth of Jairas' hand for a moment before moving away to inspect...something. He pats the walls awkwardly, hiding his glow from view, "I better check in with the Chief." He blurts out and shuffles quickly towards the gate. 

Jairas looks after Perryn, hands still hovering the air, wondering if perhaps he'd said something wrong. He sighs and squares his shoulders. This will have to wait, there are undead that need to be slain. 

 

**Plaguecarriers storm past them and set off a string of explosives that destroys the village and all chances of its recovery. The village is lost and they evacuate the hylek.**  
Jairas gulps and gasps for air, brushing some of the splatters from the undead off his coat with a disgusted expression.   
"That...did not go as planned." He inspects the back of his forearm and grimaces when he sees that a risen has bitten out a chunk of his bark. He glances up at Perryn and lets his eyes wander over the Guardian's form. "Are you alright?"

"Just peachy." Perryn slaps the side of his head, soot coming out of his ears in puffs, "Wasn't expecting them to explode."   
When he notices the missing chunk out of Jairas' arm, he frowns and grabs the limb, pulling it close to his face to inspect. The wound is nothing serious, the sap already hardening around it and he breathes easy.   
"One of them made a snack out of you, did they?" He chuckles.

"Eh." Jairas shrugs his shoulders in indifference.   
"I didn't expect them to bite. That's just...feral." He glances around, "On second thought, perhaps I should have." 

Perryn looks at the village in ruins, fire slowly consuming the cave, the floor littered with bodies. It all felt so preventable.   
"So much for titles." He says with a dejected sigh, "Not much we can do here now, let's go."

"Perry." Jairas stops him with a gentle yet firm hand that curls around the Guardian’s wrist.   
"We tried and did our best, that is all we can do. The hylek live to fight another day. Without us..." He takes a deep breath, "Without you, they'd all have been killed, and there would have been more bodies among these ruins. It...may not appear like it, but with this little action we've defied Zhaitan, and that's a win in my books." 

Perryn stares in awe at Jairas. A few words and his spirits feel lifted. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "Thank you, Jai...that means a lot." 

Jairas smiles warmly and lifts his hand to cup the back of Perryn's neck and closes his eyes as he pulls him down. Their foreheads brush together and Jairas hushes "We're in this together." 

Perryn freezes up, his eyes looking around wildly. He doesn't know where to put his hands and just lets them dangle awkwardly in front of him. The only solace is that Jairas' eyes are closed and he doesn't have to hide the brilliant white his glow has become. The touch of their foreheads burns hotter than the encroaching fire and he only manages a weak "Yeah..." in response. He clutches Jairas' arm, prying it off him gently once he's calmed down. "Let's get out of here." 

Jairas pulls back and gives an encouraging smile. "Let's." 

 

**On their way back to the Priory, the decide to help with a local Krait problem at the Leeshore Gauntlet.**  
The water rushes past Jairas’ ears when he finally dips beneath the surface after Perryn who disappears eagerly into the depths at the promise of killing a few more Krait. He can see the Guardian's faint blue glow between the weaves and steers right toward a pair of Krait who are silhouetted against the dark of the sea. In between the krait is a quaggan, captured inside a net that is lined with algae and felted by overuse. 

Perryn raises his hand, a stream of white light blinking through the water toward the krait, and sure enough, it gets their attention when the bolt of light sears into the Krait's skin. The snakes slither through the water toward where Perryn braces himself for the two attackers, and Jairas notices that with how Perryn manages to make a scene (Bright blue glow of his spiky leaves, the shine of his armour and the radiance he shoots at will) the Krait have not even bothered to throw him a glance, so Jairas stealths himself and ducks beneath the trio to where the quaggan remains tangled in the net and cuts it free with his dagger, the motion slowed by the water's resistance. 

The quaggan startles only briefly at his very sudden appearance, but is grateful nonetheless. "Thank yoooooou." The quaggan says and swims toward the surface to safety, and finally Jairas turns toward where Perryn is fighting the Krait, a large, blue corona surrounding him in an eerie and ghostly glow.   
One of the Krait hisses angrily when Perryn dishes a strike to the creatures head and the Krait floats sideways, blood oozing into the water in a cloud of dark.   
The Kraits squints its eyes at Perryn with malice and hatred, hissing forebodingly, "When we're done, you'll be my slave." 

There is only so little Jairas can put up with, and he's dallied for far too long anyhow. He accredits the rush of adrenaline and the fiery pulse of his pattern to his eagerness to fight, but he knows it is the words that really rile him up. Perryn, a slave? Never. 

The shadowstep is a most natural thing for Jairas now, even underwater, and he appears right behind the Krait and slits his dagger through the creature's back before it even moves. More blood thickens the water and the Krait tries to turn around with a furious glint in its eyes, a wailed and pained screech lost in the waves. Before it can utter even a single other word, the executive strike follows, and the Krait’s neck is severed and the body drifts backward, sinking like a stone toward the sea floor. 

Jairas watches the body drift lower and only raises his eyes when Perryn swims toward him, seemingly cheerful and thankfully uninjured. With a gesture of his arms Perryn beckons Jairas to follow him, and Jairas gives the Krait's body only one last smug and victorious "Hmpf." before he follows.

Perryn breaches the river, water pouring out of his metal plating as he steps onto the river bank. He looks at Jairas' displeased expression, coat drenched and sticking to his bark like a wet blanket and can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips. 

Despite his complaints, Perryn knows Jairas' beauty and prowess in the water. The way he moves like a shadow with the ebb and flow of the sea, how his eyes shine a brilliant ruby as he honed in on that Krait, his blade coming down hard and fast rivalling any Largos. Even when the Krait's neck was gutted wide open and its blood spilled all around Jairas, it only made his gaze more intense and when Jairas looked back at him with those eyes his stomach did an odd flip. He's still reeling from it. He's so lost in his thoughts that when he finally comes out of his reverie he almost jumps at the sight of Jairas staring up at him quizzically.

"Everything alright?" Jairas asks, his glow still prominent in the shade, red eyes boring into his soul. If only the man knew what those eyes do to him. 

"Ah, yeah..." He replies lamely, "Let's go."


	6. Augur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You could call this somewhat of a filler, or perhaps we were just having too much fun.  
> Either way, we threw the format almost out the window and decided to go for...this approach.
> 
> Enjoy <3

**While waiting for Steward Gixx at Priory Headquarters, Jairas begins his routinely stretches.**  
Jairas is sitting on the ground, one leg bent beneath him, the other stretched out before him as his hand reaches easily around his forefoot, back still straight. He blinks up at Perryn when the Guardian approaches and notices how large the Guardian looks from where he's sitting. 

With his free hand he brushes a stray leaf behind his ear and notices the slight moisture on his forehead, the aftermath and a sign from his prior warm-up because of the freezing cold that disallows jumping right into his stretches. 

Perryn looks confused for a moment and Jairas smiles up at him.   
"Hey, Perry." Jairas greets and languidly sits a bit straighter, chest heaving when he drags in a breath and rolls his shoulders back.   
"I'll be just a moment, then we can head down to Gixx." 

Perryn stares down at Jairas' outstretched leg, the muscles there lean and taunt. He tries very hard not to follow the drop of sweat sliding criminally slow down Jairas’ forehead to the hollow of his neck and instead tilts his head quizzically, "What are you doing?"

Jairas switches to the other side, barely even noticing Perryn's stare. "Stretching." He replies and reaches easily for his other foot. 

He barely remembers the time he's started to stretch and it has become a habit now, every morning and before sleeping, the effects showing clear as day. Now his fibres have become quite accustomed, right to the point where he doesn't feel the usual strain. 

"Actually," He says and frowns up at Perryn, an idea sparking in his head, "You could help me." 

When Jairas switches positions to his other leg, his throat clenches at the tasteful peak at his inner thigh. The soft grunt that escapes the man's lips as he stretches to grasp his foot is distracting to say the least. It takes him a moment to realise Jairas is talking to him and he flounders on his words like he's been caught red-handed.   
"I-ah, um, what?" 

Jairas chuckles and pats the ground in front of him with his hand before he spreads and splays his legs wide.   
"Just sit down and spread your legs like this." He points to his legs and looks up a Perryn expectantly. 

Perryn flops to the floor faster than he would've liked, cursing his obvious lack of self-control as he copies Jairas' pose. He plays it off cool.   
"So, what do I do?"

Jairas bends forward, back arching curvaceously and pushes himself closer until Perryn's feet press against his ankles, giving a little pressure. 

"Can you..." Jairas looks up from where Perryn's soles rest against his ankles and notices how very close they are, his eyes lingering on the intricate lines of Perryn's pattern that look even more radiant now that he's so close. 

His mouth hangs open for a moment, lips gone dry and throat constricting, refusing to form any words. Up until now he hasn't noticed in exactly what kind of position they are in and he only gulps as his pattern flares to life. 

"Ah, uhm. Just..." Jairas wants to avoid Perryn's eyes, the words tumbling out and so very embarrassing, but he glances up anyhow.   
"Spread your legs...further?"

Thorns. This man will be the death of him. Perryn’s breath comes short when Jairas leans in close, the arch of his spine prominent even through his leather coat. 

His glow is on full display, he knows but finds he doesn't much care. Not when Jairas looks up at him so flushed and demure. 

Like this, he observes just how much smaller Jairas is. He wants to reach over, spread his hands over the small of his back and push, just so he could hear the gasp he knows he would elicit. Perhaps another time. 

He refocuses on the task at hand, slowly pushing his feet back against Jairas' ankles, "Like this?" 

Jairas feels the push against his ankles and for a moment he forgets why he is doing this, his mind rendered blank. Perryn's voice is slightly hushed and husky, as if he too has trouble breathing. 

By The Pale Tree, Jairas is absolutely certain that if Perryn had come before this, no warm-up would have been required. His body thrums with warmth, fingertips shivering with awareness. He tries to focus on the exercise, the whole reason why he is doing this, and tries to remember what part of him had thought this was a good idea. Even worse, he still barely feels any strain. 

For a moment he debates with himself if pushing himself through this is worth it - his breath is coming just shy of too fast and he feels slightly dizzy - but he doesn't want it to end either. 

The sensations are pulling at him and he averts his eyes shyly, not managing to keep meeting Perryn's eyes and instead focuses on the broad chest, the defined fibres forming the pectoral and deltoid standing out strongly even beneath the armour that Perryn is wearing. 

It is a sign that Perryn trains hard and that its effects are showing in his picturesque appearance, and Jairas wonders if he will ever look at Perryn the same. Meekly he hushes, "A bit...more." before his courage can leave him completely. 

Perryn’s mind starts running wild as he spreads Jairas' legs further. What are they even doing? He is thankful that Jairas chooses to look away at this moment, just so he doesn't have to explain his blatant staring. 

He has to shuffle closer to accommodate his restrictive armour. He's so close he can see the stems pulse ruby through the man's leaves, Jairas' brow is furrowed slightly but even at this angle he can tell there isn't much strain on his legs. 

Just how flexible is he? His mind goes blank at the possibilities before his ears perk to the sound of Jairas' soft voice demanding more. His eyes are wide, mouth agape and he takes in a big gulp, adding some needed moisture to his throat. 

"O-okay." He leans back a little, using his arms as a brace as he pushes in harder, parting Jairas legs by the inch. He watches intently, the change in Jairas' features as he stretches further. 

He's doing that to him. 

He wants to look away, preserve even a little of what they had but he knows it's far too late. He wonders just how far he could push, if he went a little faster, pushed a little harder, would it catch the man off-guard? 

He plays with these thoughts but doesn't act on them. He has to gain some semblance of control. So he takes it slow until he feels the tremble of his own legs and gauges Jairas' reaction.

Jairas feels the pressure on his legs and slowly, steadily, building simultaneously like the heat he's feeling, builds the familiar strain in his thigh. Perryn's legs tremble, clearly not used to this kind of exercise...but then again, neither is Jairas. Not like this, not with the gravity giving a pull toward Perryn that is far too tempting. 

He doesn't want to speak, doesn't want to open his mouth because he does not trust his voice to not betray him, and he waits just one moment too long to speak, the strain reaching a peak that is a low thrum near that of pain, and a startled sound escapes his throat that embarrasses him more than anything else that he's thought - because his thoughts are under his control. But not his voice, apparently. 

"Oh," he makes, and wishes desperately that the ground would somehow swallow him. Thorns and brambles, what does Perryn think of him now?   
"That," Jairas tries, but the harder he attempts to sound normal, the more he does not. He lowers his head and closes his eyes, resigning himself to the fact that there is nothing he can do to bring back even a shred of normality.   
"There." Jairas murmurs and knows how ambiguous he sounds, and also knows that Perryn's effect on him leaves him powerless to do anything to redeem himself. 

If only the seconds did not feel like minutes, and if only he did not find it more and more difficult to remember how to breathe. 

The sounds Jairas lets slip from his lips sent shockwaves to the very tips of Perryn's leaves, a deep heat pooling in his belly. Did the man even know what he's doing to him? Something akin to shame washes over him. 

He turned a simple exercise, something Jairas probably does routinely, into...this. 

He almost comes back to his senses until suddenly Jairas shuts his eyes and utters a single word in the most needy voice he has ever heard in his life. 

_There._

He goes completely rigid. Perryn bites his lip to keep composure, a blessing that Jairas looks down at the ground. Even he doesn't know what kind of look he's giving. 

He waits as time goes by agonisingly slow. Waits until Jairas looks at him and tells him to stop. He doesn't trust himself to end whatever this is otherwise. 

It's...unbearable. Magnetic and choking both at once, sensations running wildly through his body, thoughts churning incessantly. Jairas counts in his head and loses himself even before he gets to three, noticing the look Perryn gives him from the corner of his eyes. 

How, how, how? How is it possible that he has not seen this before? How Perryn's features, both kind and stern, are an invitation to look at him, how the blue of his eyes sparkle like filigran sapphire jewels, how the tips of his leafy hair, spiked and slightly curved, pulse with each indrawn breath? 

Perhaps it is his imagination, but the flow of Perryn's pattern seems to pulsate over his skin more erratically, and Jairas doesn't dare to wonder what his own looks like. 

His eyes trail from the ground toward Perryn's thighs and thorns, he wants to lean further in, to reach out and splay his fingers over the leather that serves as a layer between armour and skin, only to satisfy the curious question of whether they are as hardy and strong as they look. 

They must be. Jairas has seen Perryn lunge powerfully, crossing distances with naught but the strength of his legs, and what Perryn lacks in mobility he definitely has in stability, vigour and might. And...stamina. 

Jairas inhales sharply, thoughts trailing too far, way too far for him to remain in their current state without doing something stupid, something tempting, something...coveting. 

He slowly straightens his back and places his hands in between them and pushes himself away, away from the tepid warmth, away from the feeling of gravity, away from the temptation because he doesn't know what it will do - not only to him, but to them. Whatever thin line there had been, innocent and unknowing as his idea had been, it has smeared at its edges and brought them closer. 

When a few inches separate them and Perryn's feet loosen from his ankles, Jairas trusts himself to look up again. He feels uncertain and afraid, wondering if they could ever be the same again, or if he even wants to. 

When he looks at Perryn now he feels a race in his thorax, the hitch of his breath, a warmth that spreads evenly and electric through his entire body.   
"Thanks." He brings out and licks his lips that feel parched and dry.   
"That...was good." Oh, by the Pale Tree, he wishes his mouth would stop running without his brain. 

Perryn makes to stand, hoping Jairas will attribute his shaky legs to being unused to the exercise and not that the whole ordeal left him utterly breathless. _Mulch, control yourself._

"Glad I could help." Thank the Mother his voice came out strong. He offers a hand to Jairas, hoisting his lithe frame easily. A part of him wants to ease back into normal conversation but he was never any good at resisting temptation.   
"Next time you need to do more stretches, I'd be happy to lend a hand." 

Jairas tries hard not to ponder about the strength in Perryn's arms when the Guardian pulls him to his feet, or what it could otherwise be used for. 

Perryn's words come like a sudden cold shower of rain, no, a waterfall, and Jairas looks up at him, switching between Perryn's eyes, looking for mirth, perhaps jest or even dishonesty, but he finds none. The connection where Jairas' fingers still curl around Perryn's forearm for support tightens and Jairas can't think for a bare, frightening moment, all thoughts suddenly left from his mind. It is a moment of sobriety and revelation, and he finds a truth in it he hadn't dared to even consider, but the gaze Perryn gives him leaves absolutely no doubt. 

He is...he is just like him. 

_Does he feel the same way?_ The same thrum going through his body, electricity tingling through his fibres, heat pooling in his stomach, fingers twitching in anxiety and nervousness? Jairas isn't completely sure. Not entirely, but partly.   
He knows something is there, and he holds onto that like a life-line. 

"I...yeah." Jairas hears himself saying and is proud of himself that his voice does not waver nearly as much and that he does not stutter like an idiot, "I would like that." 

If it wasn't for Jairas' hand holding him in place, he would've bounced in elation. 

There will be a next time. 

He should make his intentions clear. He knows that and yet he is still unsure of the other’s feelings. He doesn't want to get ahead of himself.   
"Let's see what Gixx has planned for us." Perryn gives a soft, blissful smile, jerking his head towards the hall.

Jairas has not realized how tense he has been until right then, because Perryn does not back away, doesn't flinch, does not turn him down. Quite the contrary, in fact. It makes Jairas’ head spin and his shoulders relax as he lets out a relieved sigh and smiles back, "Yeah," He says and simply because he feels he can, simply because he feels delighted and more courageous than ever before, his fingers uncurl slightly and drift down toward Perryn's hand where they rest and squeeze just lightly. He holds Perryn's fingertips in his palm for a second - or two, he can barely tell - before he finally let's go.   
"I'm right behind you."

 

**For their exemplary work, Steward Gixx awards them the title of Magister and sends them to collect research from Maeva who is studying dragon weaknesses.**  
"Magister Perryn." Jairas says out loud, testing the sound of it. It seems an odd combination; he has always viewed Magisters to be rather reserved, literate and erudite. Not that Perryn does not qualify, but magister seems a post that does not conform with Perryn's avid interests of adventure.   
"I thought we'd skim books at some point, instead we run errands." He chuckles. 

"I think I liked Champion of the Sun better." Perryn laughs along with him, "Magister is much better suited for you, Jai."   
He can picture the man toiling away in a dark library, eyes burrowed into a hefty tome. It brings a smile to his face, "But errand boy is just as good." He jabs playfully. Perryn glances over to the hylek speaking with Gixx, "Ikniu seems well, I'm glad they decided to join the fight.”

Jairas glances up at the tomes spiralling softly around the pillar of light, his eyes glowing with alacrity.   
"I would love to look at all the Priory has to offer, but it will have to wait. After all, we can't leave Ikniu to battle by himself, can we?" 

Perryn nods enthusiastically, eager to be off.   
"The sooner we finish this errand, the sooner we can get to the dragon."   
Right now with Jairas beside him, he feels unstoppable. Ready.

 

**They find Maeva’s house on high alert, freeing her from her induced stasis and killing the undead scout she was keeping at bay.**  
"I guess this wasn't just a simple errand after all." Perryn dusts off the bits of golem on his armour. He gives Jairas a determined look.   
"If Zhaitan is making his move, we'll be there." 

Jairas gives only a curt nod.   
"They must be warned...I don't dare imagine what would happen if Lion's Arch fell."


End file.
